


Like Thoughts That Come And Go

by WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken



Series: We either make it, or break it. [10]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (his own fault though), Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Post-Break Up, Sad, Sad Han Jisung | Han, Sad Lee Minho | Lee Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken/pseuds/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken
Summary: It's cold here in the city, it always seems that way.And I've been thinking about you almost everyday.Thinking about the good times, thinking about the snow.Thinking about how sad it feels, all alone again.-Jisung misses Minho very much, but will never believe anything he says ever again.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: We either make it, or break it. [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1439083
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	Like Thoughts That Come And Go

**Author's Note:**

> Not properly proof-read, but I whipped this up in a little over an hour after I had already planted myself in bed. (yes, I got back up to write this even though it was already in the middle of the night)
> 
> Inspired by Richard Walters - I'm Sorry

If you'd ask Jisung on his opinion on snow, he wouldn't know what to tell you. 

It was cold, wet and brought runny noses, fogging glasses and frozen breath on his scarf with it. The substance was able to freeze you to the bone and settle in your muscles to slow you down.

One of the very first memories Jisung had of the white crystals was how he had been playing outside with some kid from the neighbourhood and that he had somehow slipped, causing him to break his arm and screech like a banshee.

He had been about five years old at the time and all that now remained of that was a faint scar on his forearm, running from his wrist all the way to his elbow. 

From that point on he had sworn to hate snow.

But there was also hot choco, warm hoodies and making snow-angels with his friends at insane hours in the night in high school.

People called him crazy, but he was nothing compared to his bestie Felix and the deranged teen that was Jeongin. At some point it had become tradition for one of the two to call him whenever the first snow had fallen, not caring whether it was in the afternoon or in the middle of the night.

The amount of times he had snuck out of the house because the two insisted on making a snowman and snow angels was insane. He sometimes wondered how his parents had never caught him.

More importantly, snow had brought _him_.

He smiled at the memory and traced his foot over the ground, watching how the layer of snow made way for the lines he drew.

Jisung was aware that he should probably get back home to warm up, but he rather enjoyed the cold of the bench seep into him and rendering his body quite useless. 

His fingers had gone numb quite a while ago and the shivering had stopped as well, so he didn’t feel all that compelled to leave.

Instead, he just pulled the strings on his hoodie and preventing too much cold air from sneaking its way in.

He probably should’ve grabbed a jacket before rushing out like that, but in his state of panic he had forgotten it was already way past midnight and that it was snowing and that it was probably too cold without some proper protection.

Oh well.

A puff of air left his mouth and he watched how it flew off into the night, a one chuckle following another puff.

It was funny.

It was really funny how some things always disappeared like that, no trace left as if it had never been there.

Money, food whenever Chan was over, his favourite shampoo which his dormmates and best friends sneakily used like Jisung didn’t notice, his jewellery whenever Hyunjin showed up – that stealing bitch – to hang out…

Minho.

He stopped himself there and planted his hand in the snow that had accumulated on the bench he had wiped clean just a few minutes ago – hours?.

It didn’t feel like anything and it only confirmed his theory that his extremities had grown numb to the cold.

Nothing to worry about, really.

He let out a sigh and glanced around the park, his eyes ending up at the set of swings on his left.

It was really childish but he had the sudden urge to get on them, letting the biting cold scratch his cheeks as he swung higher and higher.

And he had let go of any brakes anyways so he got to his feet and patted the snow off his jeans before waddling his way over. He had to be careful not to slip – his vans had a great grip but didn’t do all that well with snow – and his body wasn’t really cooperating due to the cold.

Somehow he managed to get there without faceplanting and he turned the piece of rubber around, shaking it a bit to get the snow off of it. The last remnants he dusted of with his hands.

As he sat down he wondered if people were even allowed in the park at this time, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. It was a stupid question anyways because the pro-forma gate was closed and Jisung had done some very pathetic parkour to get over the fence.

Of course he wasn’t supposed to be here.

But where else would he have gone?

Everyone was in his own dorm and being the introvert he was, he had no other friends than the seven – six – currently downing shot after shot in his dorm.

So the park it had been.

He was upset that the others had allowed the source of his pain into his own freaking house.

How dare they bring him over without asking Jisung if he was fine with it first?

To be honest, it felt as if he had been stabbed in the back.

He pushed his feet off the ground and the swing creaked loudly as he swung back down, giving away its age and how the hinges were probably frozen.

Swinging and swinging.

He kept swinging and closed his eyes as he got higher and higher, enjoying the air running through his hair as his hood fell off.

Every time he was close enough to the ground he planted his feet back into the snow and pushed off, the white substance accumulating on his shoes and melting a bit before seeping into the fabric.

But much like his hands, he couldn’t feel his feet anymore either.

It made it a bit difficult to keep holding onto the chains of the swing, but he somehow managed to keep the stumps of ice clamped around it.

It was nostalgic, swinging around in an empty park in the middle of the night.

The first time he had done so was somewhere in middle school, the night after his parents had announced they were getting a divorce.

It had been so long ago that Jisung didn’t quite remember what had gone through his head but he did remember these swings very well.

The second time had been near the end of his first year in high school.

High school.

Jisung had hated high school because he had figured he didn’t like girls all that much and when he had told people so, they had called him horrible things and he had sunk to the bottom of the pecking-order.

God bless Felix and Jeongin for showing up when they did.

The third time he had been in this exact same position was in his third year of high school, right after _he_ transferred into his class, freaking out about how attracted he had felt.

Jisung’s heart ached and he bit his lip in an attempt to keep his eyes from watering.

Fourth time was after that one party in his last year after finding _him_ dead drunk and basically eating this random girl’s face.

He should have known right then and there that things would never turn out how he wanted them to. He had so stupidly said 'yes' to that first date near the end of the year. 

It got proven and that was the fifth time he had been swinging in the dead of night.

God had he been stupid.

How could he have every believed that _he_ was anything other than some kind of stuck-up playboy.

His friends had warned him. They had told him to be careful but he had been too stubborn to listen.

He had given in pathetically quick and that had been fine because he had really though that _he_ cared about him, eyes filled with wonder and soft whispers and never failing to let everyone proudly know that they were dating.

Jisung’s friends had gotten around and accepted him into the group.

Oh how he hated that.

If that hadn’t happened, Jisung wouldn’t have been sitting here for the sixth time in his life.

Stupid friends.

His legs were getting tired from pushing and he let himself swing out, feeling a little empty now that he was getting back to earth.

He hated that.

Because now that his mind wasn’t occupied with getting higher and higher anymore, the memory of _him_ breaking up with Jisung came back in full force.

_’’I think we should break up’’_

A choked breath left his throat and his eyes welled up.

_’’I’m not in love with you’’_

No.

_’’Let go Jisung. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore’’_

Stop it.

_’’Crying and pleading isn’t going to change my mind. I don’t think I ever loved you in the first place so let me go’’_

It had been a couple of weeks ago and it was time for him to stop getting hurt by it.

He lost the battle and now each blink brought another tear. He tried to wipe them away with trembling hands but it didn’t work.

They burned his skin as they travelled down his cheeks and he hated it.

He had spent days and days crying and it was time to stop.

So he slapped his cheek, ‘’Stop it. He’s not worth crying over,’’

It seemed to work and the sadness made way for anger. He was angry at the older for playing him like that and he was angry at himself for falling for it.

It was when the first rays of sun peaked through the dark sky that Jisung noticed how exhausted he was. He hadn’t eaten anything in almost a day and that wasn’t all that smart because he had to eat something every five hours in order not to pass out. 

No diabetes, just a fast metabolism.

It was a miracle he hadn’t passed out here yet, especially with how fucked-up his sleep schedule had been lately.

He pushed himself off the swing and stumbled a bit as the blood rushed out of his head and to his legs.

It took a couple of seconds of rapid blinking but then the dark spots were gone.

Right.

Time to go back.

His whole body was suddenly on fire as he closed the door behind him but he payed it no attention, more focussed on the mass of bodies spread around the living room and the empty bottles littered on the floor.

They’d better clean their shit up as soon as they woke up.

He slipped out of his vans and set them under the radiator before peeling his drenched socks off his feet and hanging them on the same radiator.

Then he shuffled inside, not caring how loud he was because he didn’t care if he accidentily woke someone up.

They deserved it anyways.

Of course his clumsy ass had to hit an empty bottle and he hissed.

‘’Sungie?,’’ a voice suddenly grumbled out.

Jisung didn’t dare to turn around and he sped up his steps, praying for anyone or anything to help him flee to his room.

His prayer didn’t get answered – they never did – and he got tugged back by his arm.

‘’God, where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was?,’’

Thump.

Butterflies.

No.

It was fake.

Jisung shook his head and tugged at his arm, still refusing to face the guy.

Of course he lost and he got turned around, accidentily meeting Minho’s eyes before he hung his head to look at the floor.

Why did he have to be here?

Why did his ‘friends’ invite him over, knowing how Jisung still cried himself to sleep more often than not.

‘’Sungie, look at me,’’ the older commanded but Jisung refused.

Then his head got directed up for him and he hissed at the feeling of Minho’s hands on his cheeks. He recoiled back on instinct and fortunately Minho’s hands slipped away from him.

‘’Please,’’ the older whispered out, face set in so much pain that Jisung almost fell for the act, ‘’I’m sorry. I was so stupid. Please let me explain,’’

Jisung contemplated but shook his head, knowing that whatever the older wanted to say was only going to hurt him more or give him false hope.

‘’Don’t bother. I don’t care what you want to say,’’ Jisung managed to mumble, eyes back on the floor, ‘’I don’t think I will ever believe you anymore,’’

It was silent for a couple of seconds until Minho shifted and got a hold of Jisung’s hand.

‘’Sungie, baby, it was a mistake to break up. I love you so, so much but I was convinced that I wasn’t good enough for you and it hurt me but I couldn’t drag you down with me. Please believe me when I say that I regretted everything I said as soon as I got back home. I missed you so much. Please give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you and do better, I promise,’’

_’’I’ll never leave you Sungie, I promise,’’_

‘’Bullshit. You’re just playing me again,’’ Jisung deadpanned, ‘’Your promises mean nothing,’’

He heard the older suck in a sharp breath and he took that opportunity to yank his hand away from Minho’s hold.

‘’I’m not lying. Please believe me. Please baby,’’

Then he was suddenly pulled into a hug and he _almost_ let himself melt and give in and enjoy the embrace, but his mind so kindly reminded him that he shouldn’t.

He wasn’t going to fall for it again.

‘’I want you gone when I wake up,’’ Jisung whispered, his voice weirdly distant even to his own ears, ‘’And I would appreciate it if you let me go. I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me,’’

Minho slowly let go and took a step back, obviously pained by Jisung’s command. 

‘’Okay,’’ Minho finally whispered back, ‘’But please unblock me and let me at least try, okay?,’’

Jisung was so tired.

He just wanted to go to sleep and for Minho to stop plaguing his mind.

‘’Sure,’’ he said, turning on his heels and rushing back to his room.

That afternoon when Jisung woke up, Minho was indeed gone and he was glad. Maybe Minho could redeem himself, maybe Minho was speaking the truth, maybe Minho had been just as hurt as Jisung, maybe Minho had just made a stupid mistake. 

Minho was probably still lying, Minho had probably laughed at Jisung as soon as he had fallen asleep, Minho was probably hanging out with a new victim, Minho probably enjoyed giving him hope and trample on it as soon as he got him.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

He was not letting himself get fooled again.

Jisung never unblocked Minho.

And maybe he went as far as to throw his phone out of the window of the cab on his way to the airport two days later, having enough of the messages flooding in, asking where he suddenly went off to and why all his stuff was gone from the dorm.

He was sorry, he really was.

But more than anything else, he was sorry for himself.

And when he was way up in the air he swore he wouldn’t ever let someone get to him like that ever again.

Love wasn’t real anyways.

He should have learned from his parents.

Never again.

He’d rather die than fall in love again.

If you'd ask Jisung on his opinion on snow, he would know what to tell you. 

He hated it.

Because snow had brought Minho.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone interested, tomorrow I'm uploading another one shot.
> 
> It's gonna be a long one and very fun, I promise.
> 
> :)


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